Herb Elliott, one of the greatest middle-distance runners the world has ever known, once set down, very candidly, the creed which dominated his approach to every race that mattered.

“There is a point of no return,” he wrote, “where you have laboured so long, sacrificed so much, that you can’t go back. You must reach your goal and trample on anyone who tries to stop you.”

That uncompromising philosophy surfaced again, of all places, on a scrap of paper in the shoe of Debbie Flintoff-King before her 400 metres hurdles final in Seoul in 1988. Her husband and coach, Phil King, had scrawled Elliott’s words for her to read just before the start.

Eight years later a perky rowing coach, Noel Donaldson, recited that same message to an Oarsome Foursome crew which was about to make history on Lake Lanier, outside Atlanta, by winning back-to-back gold.

It is a pity that the authors of a 345-page tome which has provoked some recent, robust debate did not consult people like Elliott, Flintoff-King or any one of those four remarkable rowers from Melbourne.

The book is the Independent Sport Panel Report, better known as the Crawford Report, and it seeks to plot a path ahead for Australian sport. It may well have made some worthy recommendations in other fields; but it is a volume which has made some questionable judgments about the Australian Olympic movement and its strategies.

Strangely, it is a report which fails to comprehend a simple truth: that Australians, both the elite athletes and the passionate supporters of sport, love the process of winning. Coming second does not entice them.

This seems to be an inborn condition. It may have something to do with the nation’s isolation. It may relate to sacrifices, to the long distances Australians have historically had to travel to reach elite competition. It may even be inherited from our first Olympian, Edwin Flack, who journeyed by sea and land to Athens in 1896, carrying away two gold medals. But is a fact of life, and foolish to deny.

The athletes mentioned above all knew something about winning. Elliott was never beaten over a mile or 1500 metres. Flintoff-King, behind at the last hurdle, drew on some superhuman reserve to win gold in as courageous a finish as the Games have ever seen. The rowers of the Oarsome Foursome were conspicuous for their unrelenting desire for gold: friendship mattered less than winning.

We Australians share some wonderful memories, and so many of them relate to sport. Some of the most glowing of them came just nine years ago, when Sydney celebrated the Olympic Games.

Those Games generated a mood of rapture that drenched not just the host city, but the entire nation. They gave us moments that we’ll savour forever. They bonded Australia as few events outside of war have ever done. Most demonstrably, they reinforced our sense of national identity.

How can all that happen? Simply because an enduring love of sport is embedded in this country’s psyche. Because, as our prime minister once observed perceptively, “Our sporting heroes are part of the soul and the spirit of the nation.”

The Sydney Games gave us such heroes. Who could forget the splendid vision of Cathy Freeman, in what looked like a green spacesuit, streaking to victory in the 400 metres? Or of Ian Thorpe hurling himself through the water from behind to inflict on the United States that nation’s first defeat ever in a sprint swimming relay?

Perhaps Freeman and Thorpe could also have helped the authors of the Crawford Report with their deliberations. Both superb role models, they weren’t prepared to settle for second best.

The members of the Crawford panel have taken a largely negative view of Australia’s Olympic movement. They are certainly keen to scale back Australia’s Olympic aspirations and expectations, reckoning the target of a Top Five finish in the overall medal count to be unrealistic.

It is true that competition will be tough in London, but it’s worth noting that Australia has finished fifth (Beijing), fourth (Athens) and fourth (Sydney) in such counts at the last three Olympics. In this context, active discouragement seems inappropriate, even discordant.

The review states that “the bias towards funding Olympic sports leads to outcomes that make little strategic sense to Australia”, and urges that the $100 million a year sought to support the nation’s Olympians and Paralympians should be spent (unspecifically) elsewhere.

The authors don’t define what constitutes “strategic sense”. But they can hardly be unaware that the nation’s diplomatic and trade links were strongly enhanced by Australia’s strong presence at the Beijing Olympic Games last year. And they would probably concede that President Barak Obama reckoned it made some sort of strategic sense to fly to Copenhagen to support Chicago’s bid to host the 2016 Games.

The report’s authors (three of whom have links to AFL) make a number of curious pronouncements, none more so than this: “There should be debate about which sports carry the national ethos. Swimming, tennis, cricket, cycling, the football codes, netball, golf, hockey, basketball, surfing and surf lifesaving are among the most popular sports in Australia, a part of the national psyche”.

Even though their sports don’t apparently rank in the Crawford “national ethos” category, the pole-vaulter Steve Hooker, the diver Matt Mitcham, the kayaker Ken Wallace and the triathlete Emma Snowsill all managed to win inspirational gold medals in Beijing … and consequently expand the ranks of their sports’ participants. They became instant role models.

Hooker, Mitcham, Wallace and Snowsill shouldn’t be too offended at the exclusion. They’re in good company. With its judgment on which sports qualify for “national ethos” and “national psyche”, the Crawford Report shows scant respect for the disciplines of such legendary athletes as the runners Marjorie Jackson, Betty Cuthbert, Shirley Strickland and Herb Elliott, the horseman Andrew Hoy and the shooter Michael Diamond.

The report targets many aspects of Australian Olympism. It manages to belittle the sport of archery (which has produced an Olympic gold medallist), and ignore the well documented fact that Australia’s training methods have been duplicated by other nations, and many of our high-performance coaches poached.

Overall, the whole thrust of the report suggests a preparedness to settle for less. Ultimately, such an approach means running down the system. That is the path to mediocrity … and we’ve been there. In 1976, thanks largely to an unsympathetic government, Australia came home from the Montreal Olympics without a single gold medal.

As far as its Olympic content is concerned, the Crawford Report deserves to be rejected. For that result, all of the athletes mentioned above would undoubtedly offer thanks.

Not to mention those who hope to make their Olympic and Paralympic debuts in London in 2012, and all the ardent young would-be Hookers and Snowsills of the future.

Harry Gordon
Official historian of the AOC